Eye of the Hawk
by Carolinagirl117
Summary: Clint Barton was lost when Phil Coulson found him. He was searching for the man who betrayed him and he vowed he'd never stop until he got his revenge. When the trail goes cold, Phil tries to keep Barton busy by training new agents and hunting bad guys. Then Coulson puts him on a case that Barton's not so sure he can come back from: finding the Black Widow.
1. Let It Go

Let it Go

**2008-**

Clint perched on the rooftop of a building, watching his target through the sight on his bow. The steady pouring of rain splashed on the brick under his boots, creating diminutive puddles in the uneven walling. Clouds covered the sky, but his excellent eyesight wasn't impaired. Wind whipped his jacket collar across his neck, and the soft crack of thunder above did nothing to distract him. People hurried on the streets below, trying to avoid the coming storm that threatened above.

A familiar presence from behind helped to calm the scorching fire within him and eased his fears of being alone. Out of the corner of his eye, red hair whipped wildly in the wind. He knew she would guard his back, no matter what it took. He took a deep breath, and as he released it he expelled all the thoughts from his mind. He drove out all his fears, his self-doubts, and anything that would keep him from completing his mission. After waiting twelve damn years he was finally going to kill the son of a bitch who betrayed him.

He paused mid-breath and listened to his heart beating in his chest at a steady rate. His hands moving in a rhythm well-perfected over the years, he drew the string on his beloved bow, adjusting his aim as the wind picked up speed. He looked back to his target and released the arrow. He knew it would reach the target, because the best killer was the one you never knew was coming.

_So this is the intro. I will post the first chapter tomorrow! :D hope you like it! It was Beta'd by Kathryn Hart and Sammysquatch67 helped with the title _


	2. Can't Stop Me

Can't Stop Me

**1998-**

Clint winced as the coffee scorched his tongue as he took a sip from his steaming mug. He didn't care that much though, he was freezing. It was the middle of December and Washington was _cold._ He thought about the reason why he was currently in this state_. _Why had he taken the job? He didn't know. He wasn't that desperate for money, but it always helped to keep a little extra set aside for a guy like him. A guy who didn't know where he'd be in a month or even know if he'd still be alive.

Clint strolled down the street, slipping past teens hooked to their phones, men dressed up for work and others that didn't seem to really be going anywhere. He walked unnoticed in the crowd, the years of blending in making him an easy guy to forget. He sighed as he felt snow drops trickle down and land in his messy blonde hair. He wished for the second time that day that he'd had a scarf or some sort of wool hat. He crossed the street, half-heartedly waving to the drivers in their cars and walked up the steps to his tiny apartment above a Chinese restaurant. It was cheap, had easy access to food and kept him warm at night. It was all he needed.

He walked over to his bed and sat down, staring at the wall. It was covered in pictures, maps and string. Lots of string. He had strung up important notes, dates, anything he could recall of that certain night. Surveillance pictures from ATM's, malls, even stoplight pictures hung up on his wall. In the center, the reason for all of this, was a man. Just one. Gary Pointer. Different color strings for different reasons. Blue was facts, things he knew about the man and red was for places Clint had followed him. Green helped to connect Pointer to other locations that we only a possible place the man could have been.

Clint followed the string, from one sighting to the next. He didn't know how Gary moved so quickly, guessing he had more than one person who wanted him dead. Clint smirked at the thought and flicked off the light switch, collapsing back onto his bed, and covered himself with a thin blanket.

He didn't know how, or when but one day he was going to kill that man and nothing was going to get in his way.

"Damnit."Clint cursed to himself as he lowered his aim from the target. Jacobi Dove was his target, a drug carrier who had been skimming off his boss for almost two months now. Drake, the boss, obviously wasn't an idiot. He had known someone was stealing from him and hired Clint to make a point. Clint didn't care why the target needed to be eliminated, he just wanted to get the hell out of Washington. The woman who had just walked into Dove's hotel suite dropped off the food and left before the scumbag could _charm_ her into staying. Clint repositioned his bow, glad for her exit, and began the habit ingrained into his system.

Lower the heart rate.

Take steady breaths.

Block everything but the target out.

He followed through with the pattern nearly seamlessly, he almost didn't have to think about it anymore. He watched the target pause by the window to reach into his pocket for his phone, and the expert bowman seized his opportunity. Glass shattered as Clint marked off another target.

"Well done." A male voice spoke from behind. Flawlessly, Clint spun around nocking another arrow before the intruder could blink. He hesitated before he let fired, and let the line go slack once he noticed his company was unarmed. Still, he refused to lower his bow. No telling what would happen within the next few minutes.

"Who are you?" Clint demanded as he slowly rose from his kneeling position.

"Better question… Why are you in Washington for a job that's only going to last you for two weeks? I mean with the way you buy that crappy Chinese food and plane tickets, this is pretty low standards for someone with your…skillset." The man said, not worried about the weapon aimed at his heart. Clint cocked his head to the side wondering just how long this man had been watching him but remained silent.

They continued to stare at one another, locked in a silent battle. Clint eased his features, settling into his 'sniper' look as he held his body perfectly still, knowing he could refuse to move for hours if necessary.

"I know I'm not going to win a staring contest against you, so might I ask you lower your weapon?" The man said, still not showing any fear of the weapon. _Odd. _Clint thought.

"Your name." Clint said in a clipped tone.

"Agent Phil Coulson. I work with S.H.I.E.L.D. Something you have probably never heard of, but I assure you it's real." Coulson said in a routine voice like he had said the very thing countless times.

"And?" Clint asked unamused.

"We would like to recruit you as an asset." Coulson explained.

"An asset." Clint lowered his bow and smirked. "What makes a 'big' agency like you want 'lil 'ol me?"

"Your skillset is required. We don't have many people who can take out a target three buildings away without some sort of scope." Coulson said peering over Clint's shoulder at the target's location, which was in fact a shot Coulson would have called impossible before seeing Barton.

"Why would I want to join S.H.I.E.L.D?" Clint asked almost curiously.

"We are an el-"

"I swear, if you say 'an elite organization who fights crime' or some bullshit like that you'll be dead before you finish your sentence." Clint interrupted.

Phil paused, "We stop the bad guys, we pay well and you won't have to live above a Chinese restaurant. We save lives Barton, innocent lives."

Clint scoffed. "Pay well? I've worked for the government, risking your life for them doesn't pay much at all."

"We aren't apart of any government. We just work with them when we have the same interests." Phil said with a small smile, like it was an inside joke.

"What makes you think I want to save anyone? What makes you think I care?" Clint asked seriously.

"Because you waited until the woman left the room to make the shot. She could have been there all night, yet you waited." Phil said. "You also hesitated to kill me. You're not a bad guy Barton, I don't know who along the way told you, you were. But you're just not. You just need a new direction."

"What if I say no?" Clint asked, blocking out his nightmarish memories. He gripped his bow in preparation for a fight, but didn't raise it any higher. Phil stood there, thoughtful for a second before he answered.

"You don't want to find out kid." Phil said and Clint raised his eyebrows at the implied threat.

"You can't stop me from leaving."

"I know, that's not what I meant." He said, his voice softer now. "If you don't chose to take this option, the only way out of this life, you're going to die. Somewhere, someday, there is going to be a hit that fights back. Someone will set you up or you'll have your back turned at the wrong second. And kid… I won't be the one behind you."

Clint stared at the man who was looking at him with such honesty, and he couldn't think of a reason to say no. He mulled over his choices, every option leading him to agreeing with the man. One day he would end up dead and he wouldn't be able to save himself. He opened his mouth to speak but caught himself. Phil saw his hesitation and spoke quickly.

"I can give you new intel on Gary Pointer. He's in South America right now, or he was as of this morning." Phil said. "After you finish training, we can help you track him down and he can be your first mission."

"When do I start?" Clint asked lowering his bow completely.

_So… How'd you like it? :D Huge thanks to my beta Kathryn Hart for looking over it for me! :D Review?_


	3. Anymore

**Anymore**

**1998-**

Clint tried to tell himself that he wasn't nervous. Even when his palms began sweating the closer the helicopter got to New York, he still kept lying to himself, saying that he wasn't nervous at all. He curiously glanced over at Phil and saw the man reading, acting as if bringing in a new asset everyday was something he did regularly. Clint narrowed his eyes realizing he hardly knew the man. He tensed and gripped his bow tighter as paranoia clawed at his insides. Screaming that this was a trap.

"Easy Barton." Phil said, never looking up from his book. "We'll be landing soon."

Clint didn't show his surprise, but did loosen his grip on the weapon. He turned away and looked out the small window and saw the emerging city beneath them as they made their way to the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters in New York City.

"They're going to ask to take your weapons before you go and meet him." Phil said, closing his book as they felt the helicopter lower preparing to land.

"No." Clint said immediately. He didn't even look at Coulson, but he heard the man sigh.

"You're a lone operative whose intentions, could be to kill the director. There is no way they are going to allow you in the building with your weapons knowing your history." Phil said calmly. Clint could tell he wanted to avoid a fight, but there was no way he was going in there unarmed.

"I'm not after the director. I don't even know who he is."

"Nick Fury. Now you know." Phil said. "So are you going to hand over your bow and quiver, or not?"

"It's funny how you think I need them to kill you." Clint smirked at Phil who just rolled his eyes.

Clint glared at the man as the helicopter landed and looked out the window as agents filed out of the building. Phil stood up and motioned for Clint to follow him off the chopper. He held onto his bow as he jumped down and walked towards the building doors. He followed Phil inside, and looked around the hallways he was led down. People barely paid him any attention as he followed Phil, but he noticed a few looks lingered on his bow.

Sweat trickled down his neck as he thought of someone taking his bow. He hadn't been without her in almost two years. Not since he left the Marines. They finally stopped in front of a door and Phil turned to look at him.

"You have to give up your weapons now. I gave you permission to carry them in the building, but even that was a stretch." Phil looked over at one of the guards who had followed them. There were four in total, and Clint quickly calculated the odds of being able to take them all down. He didn't want to believe it, but he was probably outmatched since they could call for backup faster than he could find his way out of this maze.

Phil stayed quiet, watching the internal battle.

"No." Clint said as the guard grew impatient and began to reach for his bow. Clint took a quick step back and Phil didn't miss the way his hand twitched, wanting to grab an arrow.

"Agent Sim, step back." Phil said, trying to give Barton some room. He complied, but not without hesitation. "Barton, hand me your bow."

Clint shook his head and took another step back, cornering himself against the wall. The other agents grew twitchy and a few people were beginning to stare as they walked down the hallway. Phil took a step towards him and Clint drew and knocked an arrow faster than they could blink. Seconds later, four guns were pointed at his chest.

"Drop your weapons!" One of the men shouted next to Phil. Clint's eyes darted between the four men, as his fingers itched to release the string.

"What is going on out here?" A new voice asked. Clint looked over and on his left was a tall man in dark clothing with an eye patch covering his eye.

"We seem to be having a problem with our newest asset. He won't drop his weapons." Phil said reluctantly.

"Just bring them in so we can start the meeting already." Director Fury said, not even bothering to look at Barton and walked back into his office, leaving the door wide open. Phil looked to him and nodded for him to go in. Clint put the arrow back in his quiver and walked in the door quickly. Fury was sitting at his desk watching a computer screen and didn't speak until Phil had shut the door, leaving the four guards outside.

"So, you're Hawkeye?" Fury asked after a minute of silence, looking over at the young archer.

"And you're Director Fury." Clint said, raising an unamused eyebrow.

"Why are you here Barton." Fury asked getting straight down to business. Clint hesitated. _Because he didn't have anywhere else to go? He was tired of Chinese food?_ He wasn't sure, so he decided to just tell the truth.

"I was in the Marines for two years. Trained in the Scout Sniper program, I passed and started going on missions. After months of training to even be qualified, after weeks of getting to know and understand how my new teammates worked, we were betrayed on our third mission. Our Intel was crap and I still don't know how three of us out of the ten survived. We had actually joined with another team and only one of my teammates survived." Clint explained. "I've been hunting the man responsible ever since and I won't rest until he pays for what happened."

"And why does that bring you here?" Fury asked.

"Because you and this organization can help me get closer to my goal."

"And what happens when you find him? You'll leave?" Fury asked, his voice becoming harder.

"No sir." Clint said. "I want to find him and make him pay, and then I just want to be done. I don't want to be in the past anymore. I was to do something…better." Clint's voice nearly broke. "I have been a hit man long enough to know that I scratched off a few innocents. People who didn't deserve to die and I can't take that back. I want to try to wipe out some of this red in my ledger and this organization is the best way I know how."

Fury stared at him for a moment then nodded. "So what are your conditions?"

Clint raised his eyebrow in confusion. "My conditions?"

"What do you want out of this? Pay? Benefits? Health care? Dental?" Fury explained, waving his hand in the air expressively.

"I can pick my pay?" Clint asked.

"It has to be within region. Most new agents, they get starting pay, but you're an asset. You will complete missions that go higher up than what they will ever experience. So essentially, you give us a number and we tell you if it's doable. And as you advance in your clearance level, you are also given a raise. It's not a whole lot, but the better job you do, the better your raise."

Clint looked to the ground in thought, then glanced up at Fury with a careful expression. "I want to start out with as much as other agents. Or with as little, I should say."

"At the same pay rate?" Fury asked, surprised evident on his face.

"Yes." Clint said. "With one condition. I get a Quinjet." Fury threw his head back and laughed for a long minute.

"You aren't getting a jet." Fury chuckled when his laughter subsided. Clint smiled, expecting the reaction but noticed Coulson stayed quiet.

"Do you want to know why you are going to give me a Quinjet, Director?" Clint said with a shit-eating smile on his face. He didn't give Fury a second to answer before continuing. "Because I can do something no one else on this earth can." He walked up to Fury's desk, picking up a black pen and walked over to Fury's beige wall. He made a small 'x' in five random spots on the wall and walked to the other side of the room.

As Clint turned, he raised his bow and nocked an arrow. Before he finished turning, two arrows were flying through the air, three following in quick pursuit. As he saw his last arrow leave the string, he grabbed another and aimed it at the notepad on Fury's desk. He released it and watched Fury jump back in his seat as the arrow lodged in the pad inches from his hand. Clint quietly lowered his bow and looked dead serious at the Director.

"Two point five seconds is all I need to send an arrow in your heart, and Agent Coulson's. I would need less than twelve seconds to kill all four men outside that door." Clint said, pointing to the door behind him. "Less than twenty if they were prepared beforehand. Director, I am a solider and I follow orders. I will be loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. but I won't join if I don't get a Quinjet."

"Am I supposed to be impressed? You think we don't have snipers here who are just as good as you are?" Fury demanded, rising from his chair. "You think I can't just throw you back on the streets?! Give me one good reason to give you a Quinjet."

"I know you can Sir." Clint said taking on a more respectful tone, wishing he had dialed it down a bit but not regretting anything. "I'm sure you have other skilled agents, but I. Never. Miss."

"Barton, in the future, don't ever shoot an arrow at me again." Fury said in a stern voice then chuckled. "Okay, you'll get your jet. Just give me some time on it."

"She'll be mine, in my name and in my own hanger Sir. I can't risk having anyone else fly her." Clint said, hating to keep going but needing it to be clear.

"Done." Fury said, his voice making it clear that Clint and Phil were now dismissed. Coulson led Clint out of the room and shut it behind them.

"I can't believe you're alive, kid." Phil said with half-smile. 

"To be honest, neither can I."

_Once again, thanks to Kathryn Hart for being a great beta! And hope you enjoyed this chapter! Review?_


	4. Breaking Policy

**Breaking Policy**

_(Okay, so I kind of improvised here. I used whatever I could find on SHIELDS history from google and I kinda just made up a lot of stuff. Hope you don't mind! I'm pretty sure most of it makes sense, and if you find any glaring and utterly horrible mistakes I will try to fix them! __ ) _

**1999-**

****Warning for mentions of abuse and foul language.****

"Go to hell Coulson!" Clint shouted at the two way mirror. He nearly punched the glass, knowing Phil was standing behind there looking at him, but thought better of it. The female agent in the room shifted nervously in her seat. "I'm DONE answering these useless questions! Let. Me. Out. Now!"

The door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud echo. "You're not done until I say you're done Barton! Sit back down in that seat or I will put you down myself!"

Clint stood nose-to-nose with his newly appointed handler. Sweat trickling down his hairline as his body simmered with anger. He kept himself, barely constrained, from throwing punches and locked eyes with Coulson.

"I'd wipe the floor with anyone you sent in here old man." Clint said in an arrogant tone. "I've been to hell and back, I've been a hit man and seen things you can't imagine. There is no one here who could make me sit in that damn seat."

"Clint you answer the questions or you fail. You fail and you're back on the streets. Am I clear?" Phil said, lowering his voice and Clint sighed and grudgingly sat back down. Phil looked over to the woman who'd been asking questions. "I've got it from here."

"Yes sir." She said, hastily making her way out. She warily looked back at Barton and then scurried out of the room. Phil sat in the chair across the small table from Barton.

"Now, we are going to start over and you're not going to lie to me." Phil said calmly.

"Yes sir." Clint said in a clipped tone.

"So in your file it says you're an orphan. You're parents died after you were barely a year old?" Phil asked, paging through the thin file on the table. The agent beforehand had jotted down notes on the side of the page but Phil didn't want to rely too much on that information.

"That's accurate. Car crash, my father was drunk and swerved into the wrong lane killing himself, my mother, and the other driver." Clint said.

"And you had a brother?" Phil noticed Barton's shoulders tense but didn't comment.

"Barney, yeah. We moved around from foster home to foster home for about six years until we ran away." Clint picked at a small piece of string hanging from his pant leg. He needed to do something, anything to distract himself from the fear of opening up. He'd kept his secrets hidden from the world for so long, he didn't like the idea of a immense organization like S.H.I.E.L.D having all his information.

"What made you decide to run away?" Phil asked genuinely interested.

"We joined a circus."

"Barton don't lie to me. This is serious." Phil said running a hand over his face.

"I am. It's where I learned to shoot a bow, where I got my name, and where I was nearly killed and left for dead." Clint said, narrowing his eyes at his 'handler'. Phil jerked his head up in shock.

"You really joined a circus?"

"Out of all of that, that is your first question?" Clint asked, an amused looking crossing his face. He smiled out of the corner of his mouth and Phil mirrored his look.

"I think that's the first genuine smile yet." Phil said, causing Clint to slam his guards back up and settle into a neutral expression. "So how long were you at the circus?"

"Well, I guess we ran away around 1988 and I joined the Marines in 1994. I was fifteen at the time." Clint said counting with his fingers. "About six years."

"You were fifteen when you joined the Marines?" Phil asked. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen." Clint said.

"You looked twenty-two at least." Phil said astounded. "How did you join the Marines?"

"I paid a lot of money for fake papers. I have always looked older than my actual age."

"Well, I think that's it for now." Phil said sliding his papers into a neat stack. "You'll be given a key to your room and be shown to your new classes and hopefully you'll make it as an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." Phil said, preparing to stand.

"That's it?" Clint asked.

"For now yes, I'm pretty sure that it won't take long to sort out the bull info you gave Mrs. Landon but I am also sure that you weren't born in New York, you don't have a valid license and that you don't want to go back to being a hit man. I think that's all I need." Phil said with a small smile.

"Iowa. I was born in Waverly, Iowa." Clint said before he could stop himself. Phil scribbled a small note on his pad and walked out the door.

***Two Months Later****

"How is he doing Agent?" Fury asked reviewing Barton's files.

"Better than expected. He's lacking in his classes, but with a tutor he should catch up in no time. He missed a lot of school after he ran away and he's not exactly social." Phil said grimacing as Barton threw another agent onto the floor. Fury had wanted to see Barton's hand to hand combat and Barton wasn't letting anyone off easy.

"Well we knew he wasn't 'exactly social' when we brought him in." Fury said and then turned to his best handler. "That's why I'm counting on you Phil. I'm talking friend to friend here, you need to get through to that kid and soon. I don't know how, but make him listen to you. He's on a self-destructing path and he needs someone who has his back."

"I know sir, I know."

"Easy Barton, conserve your energy. Think about your moves, you're rushing in too fast and too hot." Andy said from across the ring. Andy Andrews, the best physical coach at SHIELD, graduated from West Point, joined the CIA and eventually found his way to SHIELD. Rumors had it he was recruited by Fury himself, and had been a top field operative until about four years ago when his team member for eight years died in combat.

"I am conserving my energy. I am just tired of waiting on you old man." Barton taunted, hoping to make Coach Andrews make the first move.

"Nice try kid but you aren't going to goad me into attacking first." Andrews said with a wink. Barton nearly growled and took a step forward when Phil Coulson walked up to the ring.

"Agent Barton. Andrews. I need to put this match on hold. I need Barton." Coulson said, in a tone Andrews didn't want to argue with. He nodded and Clint took that as a sign to grab his things. He took off his gloves and hopped over the ropes of the fighting ring and jumped down to the floor, landing in a crouch. He didn't glance at his handler as he brushed past him and walked over to his duffle. He knelt by his duffle, quickly stuffing his water bottle and gear inside the black bag and zipped it up, then slung it over his shoulder. He turned back to Coulson and nodded in confirmation.

"Let's go." Coulson said turning, Barton quick on the man's heels. They left the sparring gym, and passed the other gyms on their way out of the building. There was the 'range' gym that held all sorts of firepower: guns, knives, and recently added arrows. Then there were the ops gyms that contained real mud, trees and anything else needed for a stimulation. It was filled with cameras to show the agents where they went wrong. SHIELD took their training seriously, months of preparation for each asset was needed before they were sent into the field. Even then, they were sent with their handlers until deemed Level Three of Field Agent status. While there were only 6 sectors at SHIELD, each one contained levels.

Sector One: Technician.

Sector Two: Administrator.

Sector Three: Field Agent, which contained the most levels, ranging one to ten.

Sector Four Regional Officer. These officers are no longer able to go into the field, unless absolutely necessary.

Sector Five: Special Officer. Are the diplomats of SHIELD, and the face of the organization. Speak publicly when the need arises and help the executive director carry out orders. Only one positon is confirmed, Maria Hill.

And Sector Six: Executive Director, which there was only one person who had that title. Director Fury.

"Agent Barton, are you ignoring me?" A voice asked and Clint blinked, clearing his head.

"Can you repeat that sir?" Barton asked, slightly embarrassed for spacing. Coulson raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"We're here at Director Fury's office. He wants to talk to you."

"About what?"

"A mission. What else?" Coulson smiled and knocked on the door. Barton sucked in his breath at the thought of a mission this early on in his training.

[Break]

"So, Sir, what you're saying is you're pulling me from training?" Clint asked. He was sitting next to Agent Coulson on a small couch in Director Fury's personal office. Fury sat in a chair across from them and set his coffee down on the table between them.

"I'm pulling you out for a week. We have a mission, and we need a sniper. You're the best one we've got right now and when you get back you move ahead in your training. You've already proven you are handling the courses with ease so we'll just bump you ahead." Director Fury said. Clint almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. Moving ahead? No one did that.

"Phil?" Clint turned back to his handler, just wanting to hear his thoughts. Phil sat there thoughtful for a moment.

"Barton, I can't decide this for you or tell you to take this offer. I think it's a good deal though, but once you complete this mission you will be placed in advanced classes. You won't have long before you become an agent and get sent on regular missions. If you were to carry on this path, you will be put directly in with the team training. We'll be throwing you in a week late, and with only two months left of standard training. It may be difficult to catch up but I am confident you can. They are called A-Squad. It consists of three team members, they are the best and lucky for you, in need of a sniper." Phil said solemn voice.

"Can you tell me the mission before I agree?" Clint asked facing back to the Director.

"Now you know that would be breaking protocol." Fury said with a disapproving, yet amused look. Clint resisted the urge to roll his eyes and looked back at his handler.

"I'll do it." Clint said earning an approving look from the Director, while missing the worried look from his handler.

[Break]

_Wow! It's been so long since I've written anything! Sorry about disappearing, but I will try to start updating more regularly. Hope you like the chapter and are excited for his mission! _


	5. Introductions

Introductions

**1999-**

"So, what's the new mission, chief?" Barton asked Fury with a cocky grin. Coulson hid a laugh with a small cough as Fury narrowed his eye. After a long moment of silence Barton shifted in his seat nervously. "Okay. Never again, Sir."

Fury stared at him a moment longer and moved on to the mission. "We sent in a team to retrieve information on a company who may or may not be giving money to terrorists. Thirty-two hours ago, they failed to reach the extraction point and we have not had any contact."

"So you need a team to go in and rescue them?" Clint asked.

"We need a team to go in and the hard drive that contains the files, and information on the company." Fury said, making it clear that A-Squad wasn't being sent in for a rescue. "But," Fury said seeing Barton about to argue. "If the agents are found, you might as well bring them back. The Council and S.H.I.E.L.D don't send rescues, agents know what they sign up for, however…" Fury paused. "As Director, I am hopeful they will make it back." Clint gave a small nod in understanding and looked to Coulson.

"What about what I was promised? A way to find Pointer. You said that could be my first mission." Clint asked.

"And we are working on that. It seems like we aren't the only ones after him. He managed to go underground a few days ago and left three dead men behind. None worked for S.H.I.E.L.D, somebody else has been tracking him down." Fury said. Clint nodded, but was angry Pointer had gotten away. He took a deep breath and looked at Coulson for direction.

"Ready to meet the team?" Coulson asked. Clint nodded and stood up to follow his handler out. Coulson took the lead and they left Fury's office and walked down the hallways in silence. Barton followed Coulson down four floors and into a small training arena. It was similar to the one new agents used, but it was obviously more difficult. Targets were farther, the parkour course had higher jumping angles, there were swords and fencing stations, but Clint was drawn to the archery station. It was noticeably new, the target was clean with not a hole in sight, and there was a freshly painted steel stand that had a quiver hooked to it for easy access to the arrows. Even from a few yards away, the feathers on the arrows looked crisp and flawless. Beside the arrow stand was a black bag, which visibly carried a bow. Clint took a step away from Coulson, drawn to see the bow and use the fresh arrows but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"That can wait a few minutes. Come meet the team." Coulson said. Even without looking at him, Clint could hear the smile in his voice. He thought about brushing off the older man's hand, but sighed and looked back at his handler.

"No more than ten… please." Clint nearly begged. Coulson nodded in understanding. "This is your new team. A-Squad, come meet you're new sniper!" Coulson called out to the three people on the wrestling mats. Clint noticed the girl first, white-blonde hair cut at a pixie length with bright blue eyes. She was medium height and had an elegant way of walking, bright pink lips and high cheekbones only added to her beauty. She wore black yoga pants and a sports bra, but Clint didn't let himself admire her for long. She was his partner, nothing else. Any feelings of lust he shut off and moved to a more military mindset.

Next, Clint noticed a man who bore a striking resemblance to her. His hair was also blonde, but a more natural, darker blonde with a few subtle highlights. His eyes were a duller blue, but it was obvious they were related. He wore a white, wife-beater shirt and black sweats and Clint knew he was the leader of the group. He was physically fit, the strong silent type and Clint guessed the strategist.

The last guy in the group was Korean, a little shorter than the girl and was twirling a sword in his hand. He was probably the referee during the wrestling matches, and Clint couldn't help but wonder which sibling won more often.

"Agent Barton, I'd like to introduce you to Agent Taylor Woodland, Agent Ryan Woodland and Agent Chris Ahn. Agent Ryan Woodland is usually the man in charge, but is letting me take the lead on this mission." Coulson said patting Ryan's shoulder good naturedly. Ryan nodded and offered Clint his hand. Clint took turns shaking hands and stood straight as they looked him over.

"Coulson, he looks a little young." Agent Ahn said. Clint hadn't thought about it, but no one in the team could be more than thirty and he thought twenty five was pushing it.

"He is. He's only twenty." Coulson said and Barton didn't miss Agent Ryan's eyes narrow in skepticism.

"Are you sure you want to bring him in?" Agent Ahn said, mirroring Ryan's look. Taylor was the only one who stayed quiet, with a blank expression. "We need a sniper, not someone to babysit." Clint felt his hackles rise, but Phil laughed catching him off guard.

"Follow me A-Squad." Coulson said, leading them to the archery station. Clint felt excitement pool in his belly as Coulson turned to look at him. He waved half-heartedly towards the bow case on the floor and Clint didn't need any extra motivation.

"What is he going to do with that? Go fight some Orcs?" Agent Ahn laughed. Clint chuckled himself, but didn't turn around. Lowering himself down to one knee, he pulled the bow case towards him. He was nearly lost in his own world as he began to unzip the bag. Inside the travel back was a solid, sleek, black bow. The string was taunt, there was a detachable laser sight. This was clearly the best that money could buy for a bow. It was a custom made collapsible, double recurve bow. There were buttons along the handle that Clint would ask about later as he pulled out the magnificent weapon. Slowly the world faded into the background as he studied the bow. Unconscious of time, and those around him he pulled an arrow out of the quiver and hooked it to the powerful string.

There were a line of targets, five or six in a row so he could practice while moving and Clint tucked away a thought to thank Coulson later. He steadied his breathing, he fell into the easy pattern of counting his breaths, his heartbeat and felt any emotion except respect for the bow fade away. He sighted up the target, letting his muscles get used to pulling back the new string.

He breathed in.

He breathed out.

He breathed in.

He breathed out and released.

The whistle through the air and the faraway 'thump' did nothing to dampen the eagerness rolling through him. Never had he used such a beautiful bow. At the circus, it was old and used, since it had been a hand me down. This one was sleek and twice as powerful as the one he used as a hit man. He quickly detached the quiver from its stand and slung it across his back. Of course it was the perfect fit, Coulson just couldn't do anything half assed. He grabbed an arrow from his stock of roughly twelve and fired again at the target, not needing to see, to know it was in the dead center, right beside the first one. The thrill of shooting called to him and he took off down the course.

While running it was a pattern, four steps and shoot.

Four steps and shoot.

The targets flew by and as he reached the sixth, he realized he had five arrows left. He shot his seventh arrow into the last target while skidding to a stop and turning on his heel. He ran back across the targets again.

Four steps and shoot.

Four steps and shoot.

Four steps and shoot.

Four steps and shoot.

As he neared the first one, with two arrows ticking out of the bull's eye, he grinned and sent his last arrow down the range. With a loud 'crack' he heard the arrow splitting the first one he shot in half, straight down the middle. He stood there barely panting and held onto the bow tightly. A couple of long minutes later, he looked back to the shell shocked group and sought out Coulson. When his eye's met his handlers, he only saw pride and amusement. There was no greed. No underlying plan to use Clint's extraordinary skill to his gain and that was the moment Clint felt trust for the man. The man who had saved him, brought him in, trained him and given him his most prized possession. The man who wanted nothing from Clint than to do his best and become the best agent he could. Coulson nodded and Clint finally turned to look at the other agents.

"My name is Clint Barton and I'll be your new sniper."

* * *

><p><em>Yay! Another chapter down! I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment below <em>_ The next chapter builds up for the mission and it was honestly a joy to write. I have a question too, does anyone watch Agents of Shield? Has anyone heard what Coulson's codename is out in the field? I thought I'd heard it somewhere but I can't seem to remember. Leave his codename in a comment below or if you know his check in name. you know the name that's like Tango-fifty-charlie brown, or something ahaha I can't remember what those are called! Comment and help a girl out? :D _


	6. Mission Brief

Mission Brief

**1999-**

"So you're the new kid huh?" Agent Taylor Woodland asked. They were leaving the training gym, heading to the cafeteria. It had been almost thirty nine hours since the agents went missing and Agent Coulson and Director Fury were talking about a rescue mission. A-Squad's leader, Ryan Woodland had been asked to join them and Clint suspected that within the hour they would be called upstairs to Fury's office.

Agent Taylor and Agent Ahn had gone back to wrestling, while Clint resumed working with his new bow and arrows. He had kept a distance from the other agents, but had eventually attracted an audience. Agents had slowly trickled in the gym, preparing to train when they had caught sight of him running from target to target. He hadn't even noticed them for the first round and as he had cooled off and observed his handiwork, he heard muttering from behind. Turning he saw people exchanging money, obviously having bet on whether he'd make all the targets or not. Clint hunched his shoulders, not used to the new attention. Not used to any since his cirrus days. Taylor must have sensed his discomfort and she waded through the small crowd and escorted him out.

"Yeah, I guess I'm the new guy." Clint said, coming back to the present. He had his quivers slung over his back and bow in hand as they made their way down the hallways. It was still lunchtime so most people would be clearing out of the cafeteria by now, going about their usual routine. SHIELD had new agents on a strict training schedule, but the higher up you went the more 'come and go' your schedule became.

"You should think about getting a betting pool going. You could make some serious cash that way." Agent Ahn suggested, flanking Barton on his left side.

"It wouldn't be fair. I never miss." Clint said turning the corner. The café came into view and his stomach rumbled in response.

"What do you mean, you never miss? Everybody misses at some point. You can't hit the target every time. It's impossible." Agent Ahn said with a small laugh, but stopped as Clint turned to face him.

"I. Never. Miss." Barton said, his eyes narrowing at Ahn. His stance had completely changed from easy going to predator in a matter of seconds. His shoulders were back, hands balled into fists at his side and his jaw was taunt while his eyes flashed with barely concealed anger. He wasn't just angry at the fact that Ahn had said it was possible for him to miss. It was the fact that he couldn't miss. He couldn't miss, even when he wanted to. Missing had never been an option.

He didn't believe his skill should ever be bet on, or a game. It was something that had been beaten into him in the first few months of his training at the circus. He'd been with a bow and arrow at his side since he was nine. Ever since he saw the bow, he had dreamed about learning to use the medieval weapon. And he did. Four years of training and he could hit a target from almost any distance and at nearly any place in the room. The Swordsman had taught him in the beginning to throw knives, to balance the weight of any knife he picked up and hit the bullseye each time. The Swordsman was rougher than his following mentor, Trickshot. The Swordsman yelled when Clint missed, throwing empty beer bottles at him or backhanding him.

Trickshot had seen Clint throw knives one night and offered to teach him to shoot. From then on, they were inseperable from then on. Clint didn't mind the hours, days, months and eventually years he spent perfecting his trade. He'd used an older bow Trickshot had given him on his birthday when he was ten and had never looked back.

Clint blinked and found himself staring down his new teammate. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned back towards the doors of the café. The two agents followed silently.

* * *

><p>"Agent Woodland and Agent Ahn will follow me into the compound." Phil explained to A-Squad, and an unnervingly quiet Nick Fury. "We go in quickly, quietly, and get our people out of there alive."<p>

"A reliable source gave us blueprints of the site and surprisingly it's not as heavily guarded as we believed. That's the good news. Bad news? It looks like this compound is being purged, they are moving out. We estimate they will be gone in two days and if they leave we may not find our agents." Agent Ryan Woodland said in a serious tone.

"Well I like this mission better than our last one." Agent Ahn joked, trying to lighten the heavy mood that had fallen upon the room. Clint resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped towards the blueprint of the compound… Something about it seemed familiar and when he saw the drawings of the third floor he realized why. He'd been inside this building before.

"They will most likely have our agents underground on the bottom floor-"Agent Ryan was explaining, but Barton interrupted him.

"No." He said stepping past Taylor and Chris trying to get a more detailed look. All eyes turned to him, waiting for an explanation.

"No?" Ryan asked, a slight edge in his voice.

"I mean, I've been here. In this building. Look at the second room down the hall on the third floor. It has a room connected to it, but there is no description. No air vents lead to it, no plumbing, nothing. It's been added in. Let me guess, the company is owned by Don Palo? This building is in Argentina?" Clint asked looking around the quiet group. When he looked at his handler, Phil nodded, encouraging him to continue. "This added room serves as a sort of hidden room for him. He takes his..." Clint hesitated. "He gets information out of people in there."

"He tortures people in there?" Taylor asked and Clint nodded.

"Care to explain?" Agent Ryan asked.

"That room is used to interrogate anyone who asks too many questions. Palo is a very secretive man, and very paranoid. I worked for him once in the beginning. I hadn't realized how insane ths man was until I was locked in the room." Barton confessed, staring at the map to avoid looking at anyone. "I had asked around about the target he had given me and word got back to Palo and he wasn't happy. When he finally let me out, after a few days he gave me two options. I either kill the target for half of what was promised or I wouldn't make it out of there at all. I left, took out the target and never saw him again. I wasn't stupid enough to go back and expect payment, but I sure as hell was never going to work for him again."

Clint remembered that room too well, it was the first time he'd even been tortured. He'd been beaten before, by his brother, by foster parents, even by his first mentor but he had never..never been tortured. Barton decided, once he'd gotten away from Palo, that he was going to put the fear of God in people. Never would that happen again. His reputation as never mission soon put wariness in his clients eyes. The underground market whispered his name in fear, high end clients surrounded themselves with guards when he came asking for payment. It wasn't the last time he'd been tortured, but ever since then he'd stopped being reckless. He made sure he scouted the area before he went into any potentially dangerous situation, and always had his quiver across his back and bow at his side. A gun in his waistband didn't hurt either.

"So it's true, you did kill people for money before coming here." Ryan said with obvious disgust.

"Yes and I will still kill people for money." Clint said staring at Ryan defiantly.

"So what do you suggest we do? How do we go in?" Coulson asked noticing the obvious tension.

"You three go in, I snipe from the roof, and Taylor keeps the van running. My guess is you will be making a hurried exit. Nearly the same plan but you can now find them in half the time." Clint said waving his hand towards the blueprint and taking a step back.

"Good catch Barton." Phil said with a small, proud smile. "Luckily that was pretty close to the original plan. Agent Taylor, if we need any extra assistance, leave the van."

"Yes sir." She replied.

"Barton, anything else you can tell us before you head out?" Fury asked.

"They love automatic weapon, but they are hired locally. Not trained professionals. They value their lives over their payches so some might turn and run. I will pick them off as I see them." He replied.

"Okay, lets gear up and meet at the Quinjet in fifteen." Coulson said.

* * *

><p>"So what did you name it?" Agent Ahn asked, sitting in the seat across Barton.<p>

"What?" Clint ask genuinely confused.

"Your bow. What did you name it?" Agent Ahn asked again. Clint look down at the bow in his lap, unaware of Coulson listening from the co-pilots chair.

"I didn- I mean… I haven't named it yet. Why would I?" Clint asked. Ahn smiled and pulled out his pistol.

"I named my gun Steve." Ahn said with a smirk.

"Steve?"

"He's the only man in my life, at least for now." Ahn said with a wink. Clint nearly blushed and leaned back quickly, hitting his head on the side of the plane. Ahn laughed at his awkwardness and put away his weapon. "I named him after Captain America. I thought it was fitting since he basically created S.H.I.E.L.D."

"What do you mean? I thought it was some guy named Carter." Clint said, wishing he had paid a little more attention in the few classes he had taken since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Ahn laughed and was joined by Agent Taylor.

"That is such a guy answer. A woman, Peggy Carter, is the one who really founded SHIELD. I mean, it never would have happened if it hadn't been for her love for Steve, obviously. Or at least it would have taken a lot long." Agent Taylor said.

"Great, you just had to say that. Now she's going to go on and on about Captain America…" Agent Ahn groaned mockingly. Taylor punched him in the shoulder and looked back at Clint.

"What?" Clint asked almost more confused now than he had been before.

"Peggy Carter was there for Steve's training, was there when he went to war, and was talking to him when he died. You just don't go through all that, and not have the rest of your life affected by it." Agent Taylor explained. "Look at SHIELDs name. Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division." She explained.

"And..?" Clint asked.

"Captain America carried a shield. It was his weapon, _the _weapon of the war. And that horribly long acronym is for him. A way for him to live on, since he couldn't."

"Oh.." Clint said, finally putting the pieces together.

"So what are you going to name your bow?" Agent Ahn asked sitting back in his seat.

"I'm not sure. I'll get back to you on that." Clint said, he had never considered that before.

"Well while you're thinking about it, it's time to give you a codename." Agent Taylor said. "We use them out in the field to keep our identities safe. My brother is Sandstorm, I am Snowstorm. I know, I know, similar right? But hey, we're twins and we both really love the color of our hair." She laughed flipping her bangs to the side of her face.

"Copy that!" Agent Ryan called out from the front.

"Coulson goes by Overwatch and I go by Phoenix." Agent Ahn said. "We just kind of like birds I guess."

Clint was about to reply but Coulson got up from the front and sat beside him. "He goes by Hawk. Just Hawk." Coulson said and gave Clint a look that said to stay quiet on the subject. Clint outwardly nodded, but on the inside was curious of the mans' decision. He'd always gone by the name Hawkeye, why would Coulson shorten it?

"We should be there soon!" Agent Ryan aka Sandstorm yelled from the front.

Agent Coulson stood up and clicked the safety off his gun, "Let's go get back our agents."

* * *

><p><em>Okay, so that was a long chapter lol. The next one is the mission and I hope you are excited! I would have added it onto this one and had originally planned to, but it was just getting wayyy too long. Mainly because I added everything in there about naming the bow and Captain America which was unplanned until I started typing, but I was on tumblr and saw a post about it a while ago and just couldn't help it! I haven't been able to find who originally posted that comment but if anyone knows, I would like to give them credit. Follow me on tumblr if you want, you can find me under Carolinagirl117. Creative right? lol I just use that name for almost everything haha. Thank you for everyone who has commented :) <strong>Sk18, Arwen Pevenise, Sherimie, LostHawk, Kathryn Hart, <strong>and **AustrailianRanger012. **I know most people put those at the top, but I just didn't want a huge paragraph up there lol. One last thing, I haven't had a lot of recent feedback with the new chapters. I'm not sure if I should continue on with this fic... I'm a little more than halfway through the next chapter but after I finish it should I just stop? Only 8 people have written a review and its a little disheartening. I know I write better, faster, when people leave reviews so let me know what you think. Should I keep going or call it quits? _


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